Disclaimer: I have absolutely no idea what a train station looks like. Apologies if I'm just super off base.

Bear thought he'd be angry.

To an extent, he was. Alex had been chewed up and spit out by the people supposed to protect him—so many times it was bloody staggering—and to make it worse, it was people he couldn't escape. It made his blood boil to think that his friend had the end of his childhood ripped away from him with his family and his safety. Bear had seen firsthand how debilitating his nightmares and panic attacks were, how much fear he kept buried—it was enough to drive a grown man mad, and he'd been dealing with it for years.

But mostly…mostly Bear was just sad. And scared.

Because he fucking knew.

He knew in that cellar when Alex asked, not confused but exhausted, why MI6 had put him on that particular assignment. He knew when he called Bear Rahim, and he knew when he talked about McCain and the poisoning. He knew, but he wanted to believe so badly that it was confused mush. That it was the sepsis and the weakness, not a memory.

But it was, and he was…just so fucking sad.

"Mac," Bear said into his cellphone as soon as he was in his room, having dialed his friend before he was out of the living room. "I need a favor."

"Another one?" Mac asked, sounding groggy. Bear knew his friend had probably been sleeping all day, so the slurred words and Irish accent made it difficult to understand them. "Henry, it's bloody early—oh."

"Yes, oh, you should be up anyways," Bear grumbled, his hands still shaking. He wanted to hit something, shoot something, and curl up in a ball and cry all at once. He shut his door and put his phone on speaker, fishing out his extra laptop and booting it up. "It's not a legal favor."

"Oh, those are me favorite," Mac said through a yawn. "Gimme the rundown, let's get on it."

Mac was his best friend from secondary school who saved his arse more than a few times. Although they weren't completely inside the lines of legality, they'd never hurt anyone, and they would never intentionally harm someone's life or prosperity—that was, unless they deserved it. Mac had a strong affinity for taking a thousand or so dollars at a time from the worse one percenters of the world and transferring it to donation sites of choice. Bear didn't think this was a bad idea at all, frankly; Mac had done so for the youth center a couple times, too.

Bear's father couldn't afford any of the nicer schools in the area, not with a pension and a prayer, so Bear went to one of the worse schools in Manchester—which is how he ended up with Seamus Mackenzie MacDonald, who'd been kicked out of two private schools on account of their worse-than-friendly pranks and their lack of desire to complete schoolwork. The first day Bear met Mac, Mac called out a teacher for making a racist remark against him—he was one of the only black kids in the class. Bear had heard worse, so he wasn't going to say anything—just keep your head down, you're clean now, you worked so hard to get out of that crowd, don't get in bad with the teachers now.

Mac, from the back of the class—their feet on the desk in front of them and their hands interlocked behind their head, one eyebrow cocked in surprise, shouted, "Shut it, ye racist fuck. Ye look like the inside o' me gram's diaper. D'ya always paint yer face like a fuckin' circus clown? All the colors o' da rainbow on ye, I swear."

Mac shut down a class of thirty delinquents in just a few seconds and grinned when they got their office pass. "Mission accomplished, I suppose."

Bear found Mac later to thank them, and got his first good look at them—shorter than him, but still decently tall, thin as a wire with an undercut dyed teal and crimson and icy gray eyes, plus a grin that promised trouble around every corner. The first thing they said, before Henry could say a word, was "I'm a they, not a he, so if yer an arse lemme know now."

Henry had blinked, shrugged, and continued with his thanks. Mac had seemed pleasantly surprised. They got into a lot of shit together in secondary school, but they were never bad kids—just a little outside the norm.

Mac was also the only person who knew that Henry had, contrary to what he'd told everyone else, relapsed twice since his first run-in with heroin. And Mac, for some reason, never judged, and never scolded—they just helped him get clean.

"I can't tell you a lot," Bear said into the phone, logging into his laptop. Mac was a genius with computers and had taught Bear quite a bit during their brief stint in uni—Mac dropped out to work independent contracts because his skills were already so good, and Bear dropped out to join the British Army so he'd have a better shot into the SAS. "Basically, someone really important to me has been absolutely screwed over by anyone and everyone, and now there are some dangerous blokes after him. I need your help to link the security feeds around the apartment complex to my secondary laptop."

Mac was silent for a second, then whistled low over the speaker. "So ye mean illegal illegal. Even better."

"More illegal than cryptocurrency theft?"

"Eh, semantics, ye melter. Got me up to 90 these days."

"You're the best, Mac."

"Yeh, I bloody know. I'll give it a leg an' let ye know."

"I have another favor to ask. Way more illegal than this one."

"…do ye, now?" Mac said slowly, for once sounding a bit intrigued. "Mr. goody goody out to break a couple laws, eh?"

Bear took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. "The people who hurt my friend…they may or may not be part of one of the national intelligence agencies. Pretty high up. Getting him out isn't going to be easy, so…it may help if you dig around for something interesting. Something either the media or the United Nations will be very interested in." Something like a teenage spy doing their dirty work.

Mac went quiet for a long minute. Bear chewed on his thumbnail as he pulled up a couple programs, waiting for Mac's computer to sync with his own.

"Now where did me honor roll best friend go?" Mac said slowly, and Bear could almost hear the smile in their voice. "Now ye're talkin. Been ages since I did anything this excitin'."

Bear grinned into the phone. "I owe you."

"Yeh, I'll add it ta yer tab, ye loveable pox," they grouched. "I'm gonna start chargin' ye for these one day."

"Looking forward to it. Where do we start?"

Mac talked Bear through most of the program, running lines of code while Bear studied the connection and the security end to make sure it would be at least difficult to trace it back to him. He'd only been working for ten bloody minutes when the fire alarm went off.

"You're joking," he mumbled. At Mac's question, he said, "Fire alarm's going off. Let us evacuate, I'll call you back when we're in. Let's just keep working from both ends."

"Aye, roger that. Don' die."

"Yeah, whatever."

Bear packed up his laptop and went out into the living room with the others. Everyone else was getting read to head out the door—Lion turning off whatever was on the stove, Fox slipping his shoes on—but Alex was sat on the couch still.

He was so pale, and so still. Staring off into nothing with his phone clenched in his hands, trembling between his knees.

He grabbed Alex's coat, a little worried that Alex may forget it in his shock. He probably should've grabbed a blanket, too, but he figured it would be fine for just a few minutes.

Bear knew his friend was strong. One of the strongest people he knew. He couldn't imagine being kidnapped and on the verge of death at nineteen and still putting his life on the line to get a teammate out—he didn't know if he'd have been able to do that. And here he was, barely more than a kid after baring his soul, absolutely terrified of demons that shouldn't exist.

Bear was starting to feel that anger now.

Ten minutes later, Alex was missing.

…

The sobbing didn't last.

It died down to pathetic huffs of air, of sorrow and sadness between desperate breaths. My staggering breath clouded the air in front of me, but I couldn't move, not even to put my frozen fingers in my pockets. I just clutched the phone that was still buzzing with notifications and stayed bent over, unable to move.

My chest felt like it would cave in if I moved.

My eyes stung, both from the cold and the tears, and I thought back to my gloves, in one of my drawers from Bear. I'd like those right about now.

I should…get up. I missed the train. I should find another way to…to go.

But I couldn't move. I couldn't stand. I could only sit there bent over a gift and mourn the uncertainty of my future.

That's what it was, I realized—where the mourning came from.

I was mourning the person I had been with them. The person so much closer to myself before any of this. The person I'd foolishly hoped I could be again.

Because I knew, with this, I could never be him again.

"Are you alright?"

I flinched, yanking my head up to stare at the person in front of me. How had he gotten so close without my knowing?

He was small—bigger than me, but small all the same, just taller than me by a couple inches. He had thin, round spectacles that seemed big on his face, and small features. He had oak brown eyes and a pleasant enough smile, though he didn't seem very dressed for the weather in a button down and cardigan, and corduroy pants. He had on loafers I'd only ever seen on teachers and librarians. He was wearing an overcoat, though—one of those long ones down to your knees that I could never remember the name of—so I figured he must be warm enough.

I started, realizing I'd been staring without saying anything, and swiped at my eyes, blushing despite the cold. "I'm fine. Thank you."

I made to stand, but my legs were still shaking, and he sat down beside me. "Let's talk for a minute. What's the matter?"

Annoyance surged on the edge of the numbness, but I was still just tired, too tired for his words to matter. "I'm alright. Thank you for offering."

"Stay a while," he said.

This time I turned to look at him fully, prepared to politely decline his offer again and to make myself stand and find somewhere else to—wait, or think, or whatever I decided to do. However, as soon as I opened my mouth, I looked down and saw the gun.

Every numb bone in my body broke in the wave of brittle panic.

I froze half-turned as I was, my body staying tight and tense, and looked up to meet his eyes. He was still smiling.

I looked around the platform. The teller looked too sleepy to notice just about anything, and everyone else had cleared off the platform; we were alone. That was probably better—I didn't want to risk anyone else getting hurt, so if I could just…

…but someone was on their way. L-Unit—K-Unit—Lion said they were dividing into groups between here and the Tube station and the bus station. I could only hope they were delayed; I didn't want them involved in this, not anymore than they already were.

"Who are you?" I asked through gritted teeth. I didn't know him—of that I was sure. MI6 wouldn't point a gun at me so quickly; they were manipulative and tricky, not so quick to physical threats. If it was an agent, they'd talk first, if as nothing more than a formality. This was someone else.

"You can call me Mathias," he said, adjusting his spectacles and glancing briefly around the platform. I looked for an opening to take the gun, or to wrestle it away from him, but he never wavered. He had a straight shot at my stomach. One wrong move and I'd be bleeding out on the frozen ground of a train station all alone.

"…Mathias," I repeated cautiously, my eyes flicking to the gun. I fought the urge to swallow nervously. "Who are you with?"

He cocked his head. "Why can't I just visit?"

"I don't know you, and most people don't casually visit with a gun."

His smile widened. "Yes, I suppose. You wouldn't mind if I borrowed your phone, would you?"

I flinched, then turned like a broken puppet to look at the phone in my hands. That was the only way I had to call for help—

…but I wasn't calling for help, was I? I didn't want them anywhere near here.

With trembling fingers and slumping shoulders, I handed it over.

He typed in my passcode with ease and opened it to my settings.

"…you know my passcode," I mumbled.

"Of course, I do."

I didn't respond to that. Who the hell was he?

He went to my location services, and I flinched as he turned them on, just barely refraining from lunging to snatch it out of his hand. I felt my eyes widen and the blood rush to my feet in panic.

"Why did you do that?" I asked through clenched teeth, just barely keeping most of the bite away.

"Well, I need your units to come collect you, and forgive me, but I don't trust you to be a good boy and wait for them," he said candidly, passing the phone back to me. Hesitantly, I took it, nearly growling something about not being called a good boy. That was creepy. "And to answer your previous question, I work with SCORPIA."

My blood froze.

I felt my heart stop and my eyes go wide. My frozen fingers hurt from clutching the seat so hard, still turned sideways to face him, afraid to move too much.

SCORPIA. Finding me the same day as MI6.

This was too fucking rich to be a coincidence.

"…are you here to take me back? Or are you here to kill me?" I asked quietly, doing all I could to suppress my shaking.

Mathias had taken out his own phone and was sending a message, but I couldn't see what it said. "Hm? Oh, no. I'm not supposed to be here. I find most SCORPIA business terribly dull, but you were quite interesting. A teenage spy, unwillingly drafted for his country, who somehow managed to fulfill a familial prophecy and topple the world's largest terrorist organization not once, but twice? Forgive me if my curiosity was piqued." The last part sounded almost defensive. He leaned back, eyes tracing my frame in the dim light.

"You're not much to the plain eye," Mathias continued, "but you apparently know how to stir up trouble."

I ignored his words for the most part, clinging to the part where he said he wasn't here to take me or kill me. Then what the hell was he here to do? "How did you find me?"

Mathias waved the gun far more casually than I thought necessary or appropriate, shrugging a bit. I locked my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, unwilling to show any more weakness than I already had. "I've been waiting for a chance to talk to you, hanging around a bit. I followed you from the flat. Nifty trick with the fire alarm, by the way; you hardly ever leave, so I was wondering if I was going to miss a chance entirely. I have to be back at headquarters soon, anyhow."

As long as we were stuck here, for whatever reason, I figured I should press for information. "Why did you want to talk to me?"

"Didn't I just explain? Because you're interesting," he said, again readjusting his glasses. "Though I didn't expect to find you in the middle of a breakdown. Apologies for the unfortunate timing."

I felt myself coil tight with hatred and indignation and embarrassment and hatred. "Fuck you."

Mathias blinked. "Well, that's a bit rude. I thought we were having a cordial conversation."

"I don't have many of those with terrorists."

Mathias waved his hand as if to shoo away my remark. "I'd hardly call myself a terrorist. As I said, the administrative side of it all bores me to tears, I really don't do much. Additionally, I'm here to tell you that if you try to run away again, I'm going to start by killing Lion."

A full-body jerk shut down any retort that I had.

Killing Lion. Killing Lion. Killing Lion.

Never mind the unexpectedness of the remark, never mind the complete ease and frankness with which he said it—those two words together were such a juxtaposition—so unnatural in the same sentence, right next to each other—that the thought itself was inconceivable.

But was it really so inconceivable if that was why I ran in the first place?

"…what?" I asked thickly, the word small and so, so afraid.

"Mm," he confirmed, unconcerned. "For our purposes, at least for the time being, we need you to stay put. From what I understand, it was terribly taxing to find you the first time, and we'd rather not like a repeat of that when we need you again. I'm being a bit preemptive on this matter, so I was rather glad you decided not to get on that train; having this confrontation there would've been much more difficult."

"Need me?" I asked numbly, the words killing Lion killing Lion killing Lion still ringing in my head. I ignored the second part, grasping onto his earlier words. "I thought…you'd be trying to kill me."

"An unfortunate consequence of our rather short-sighted predecessors." He turned to look at me fully, now, and he locked my eyes. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth, and he tilted his head as if in appraisal. "I, and my colleagues, are not so wasteful. Ability is ability, wherever it may fall—we've never been in the business of wasting investments, after all."

Oh, bloody fucking shit.

"I'm never going to work with or for you," I spat, fire eating away at the indifferent numbness. "No chance in hell."

For the first time, a glint of something more than a meek man shone in Mathias' eye, and his smile took on a more…primal edge. Predatorial, almost. "Never is such an ugly word, don't you think, Alex?"

I couldn't even form a response. Luckily—or unluckily—I was saved from having to when Mathias' phone went off. He glanced at it, the gun ever steady on my form, and said, "Ah, they've arrived. It's…Daniel Walker and Lewis Halliday. Oh, I so like Lewis, he's an interesting fellow. A kindred spirit if I've ever seen one."

I seized, so utterly helpless and so furious at that fact. "Stay away from them."

Mathias glanced at me, incredulity in his eyes. "Well, they're going to be staying away from you and me, for starters, until I'm safely away. Can't let myself get captured—that would put a bit of a wrench in our plans."

The moment he said it, I saw two familiar silhouettes walking quickly around the side of the ticket booth, and I saw the moment their eyes found me.

I also saw the moment their eyes found the man next to me.

"Don't," I shouted, ignoring the way the teller glanced oddly at me, though they were too far down the platform to see or hear what was going on clearly. Lion, eyes ablaze and so angry and so afraid met my gaze, and Snake was coiled like his namesake ready to strike, all harsh lines and tension, but I cut my eyes to the gun in my side.

They froze.

"Ah, thank you for being so cooperative," Mathias said with an edge of surprise, nodding his head in appreciation. He turned towards Lion and Snake fully, raising his voice to be heard across the platform. "Now, I'll ask you to refrain from moving until I've gone, for Lewis' sake. My friend is a very good shot, and Alex can tell you how unpleasant a snipe wound is; plus, it would put me in quite the black mood if I had to have Lewis shot."

I jerked my eyes to Snake's form and immediately found the red dot on his chest, just swaying slightly.

Lion found it as well and went taut. Snake didn't even look down, eyes harsh and set on Mathias.

"Lovely to meet you, Alex," he said. I saw him lift a hand, and I flinched, fully anticipating being struck, but he just patted my shoulder and stood. He tucked his coat around him. "Remember, stay put, please. And remember what I said would happen if you didn't."

I gave him a jerky nod, putting as much hatred into my glare as I could. I knew the double meaning—stay put if I don't want Snake to be shot. Stay in Cookham, where they could find me, if I didn't want Lion to be killed.

He just smiled, infuriatingly calm, and nodded at me. "Well, then. Speak later, lad."

He nodded in cordial acknowledgement to Snake and Lion on his way out, as though it was a casual passing on the street.

None of us moved for five minutes after he'd gone out of sight, our eyes rooted to the red dot on Snake's chest. It was only after a minute more that it disappeared, and Snake finally took a breath. Lion, after getting a nod from Snake that he was, in fact, okay, traced the skies once. He grabbed Snake's wrist and then booked it to me, under the cover of the awning, out of sniping range.

I tensed. He was going to be mad. I'd left. I'd looked him in the eye and let him say "I trust you" and then I'd slipped away like a phantom and left them once again. I felt my muscles tighten in apprehension, staring at the ground as his feet came into view, flinching as he got closer.

"I'm—I'm really, uh—" I made to apologize, no matter how inadequate.

But he just dropped to his knees and grabbed my shoulders, stooping down to meet my eyes. "Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Jesus, you're freezing—I saw you flinch, at the end, did he do anything?"

I blinked, barely registering Snake walking up and sinking into the chair beside me, looking a bit unsteady himself. "No, he…he didn't really touch me. Just said he wanted to, uh, talk."

Lion searched my eyes a second longer, and then his head hung. "Christ. Okay."

I did my best to recall every detail of the conversation, ready for a full report, as word for word as I could remember. I went over every hint of body language that I observed, every single shred I could remember, anything that could give us a lead. "That guy, his name was Mathias. I'm not sure if it was an alias or not but he seemed genuine enough. He was pretty awkward at first—"

"Not—" Lion cut me off, shaking his head. "Not right now. There's plenty of time for that later. Snake, keep an eye out."

Snake, still a little out of it, sat up and nodded.

Lion completely disregarded the tension in my shoulders and the words in my mouth and pulled my shoulders forward until I was very firmly in a hug.

"You terrified us," he said lowly. Slowly, feeling the tension bleed out of my limbs along with any remaining resolve I had to disappear, I let my hands find his back as he spoke. "We thought you were gone again. Gone gone, like last time. Do you know what that did to us? To me?"

I flinched, my eyes widening before they blurred again. I didn't even think that they'd think I was trying to commit suicide again. After what I texted Tom, I just assumed…they knew. And that was such a shitty thing to assume.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly into his shoulder, frozen fingers trying to find purchase in his coat.

"The only reason we didn't go to Cookham Bridge again is because Tom called," Lion said. His voice was hoarse. "Said you were leaving, not—trying again. He was terrified."

I flinched, feeling as though the words had physically struck me. "I'm—really sorry, I—"

"Don't," Lion interrupted, and I stopped. I closed my eyes and put my face in his shoulder and felt all of six, forget sixteen and fuck nineteen, but after being so terrified that Mathias was going to hurt them, it was safe. "Just…for a minute."

"Mm," I agreed, eyes closed to the world and I should've been on high alert, I should've been scanning the platform for more enemies because Snake had almost been shot and the knowledge that SCORPIA had been within inches of me left a debilitating sense of bitterness in the air, almost like bloodlust followed in their wake, but Lion and Snake were safe, and they and the others were safety.

I gave myself just a minute—just a minute to both appreciate and condemn my choice not to get on that train—and then I pulled back. "He was from SCORPIA."

Lion's eyes darkened, and Snake's posture tightened. "We reckoned," Snake said quietly, rubbing his chest.

"Let's get home before we do anything," Lion said decisively, pulling me up with him and extending a hand to Snake, who stood as well, looking much steadier. "Bear has security footage of four blocks out, every corner there's a camera. Sergeant is on his way and more or less up to speed. Hey," he said when he saw my nodding absently, running through the last twenty-four hours and desperately trying to pinpoint the moment it all fell apart. I looked up to meet his eyes, and he said with resolve fit to move a mountain, "We're going to figure this out, and we're going to do it together."

"That's right, so don't run off on yer own anymore, please," Snake added, pale face flushed red in the cold. "At the risk of soundin' like a maiden, my heart can't take it."

That, despite everything, made me smile a bit.

"I really am sorry for trying to run," I said quietly on the walk back, eyes glued to the building rooftops, much like Snake's. Lion was keeping watch around us. "I wanted to get away before you got dragged into it."

"We're not getting dragged into anything," Snake said resolutely. "Having your back is not you dragging us against our bloody wills."

I blinked and narrowed my eyes. "But it's—"

"Alex, I know what happened to Jack has you on edge, especially now that everyone from your past is popping up," Lion said. And he said it so candidly and so earnestly that the unexpected mention of her name didn't so much pull me back in time as it did startle me, and I turned to watch his eyes as he continued. "Now it's not just some arses who won't recognize your capabilities and your limits—you have two British SAS units behind you, as well as the Sergeant. And apparently, Bear's friend Mac has some pretty scary abilities, so we're about to put those to use as well. Not to mention all the people who may not be able to do much, but are in your corner regardless."

The longer he spoke, the more I felt my shoulders slump. "You don't know how dangerous this is."

"Ye told us everythin', if I'm not mistaken," Snake said, and I could feel Lion's eyes in the back of my skull. "We know exactly what we're getting ourselves into."

They have no idea this is going to become a fucking custody battle, I thought dryly to myself, figuring it might be best if I didn't mention that aloud.

"Okay," I conceded, too tired to argue.

Bear had finished the soup when we got home, but I was too nauseous to eat any. I accepted a cup just so they wouldn't be any angrier with me than they already were.

"You're like a damn puppy," Wolf growled. I thought he'd been swearing and cussing up a storm, giving me the lecture of my life in perfect Spanglish, but he was just sitting with a mug of whiskey and coffee by the heater, looking particularly grumpy. "Leave the door open longer than a second and you'll just fucking dart to freedom."

I muttered something under my breath that I was very glad he didn't hear.

"He's just sour he got tasked with sprinting to the Tube station to catch ye," Snake assured.

I hid a numb smile in my mug of soup and didn't say a word until Fox and Tiger were back. When they walked in, I could tell Tiger was angry, but he was always good at managing his emotions when he wanted to. This was no exception. He gave me a nod and his eyes sank in a way that told me he was far gladder that I was back than angry that I'd left.

Fox was livid.

As soon as he walked in, I felt myself shrink under his eyes, receding into the armchair as much as I possibly could. I hid behind my mug.

"You dumbarse fucking idiot, Alex—"

"Say another word and you're out of my flat, and you're never coming back in," Bear growled before Lion even got the chance, though Lion's mouth was open to say something along the same lines. "Calm yourself down before one of us does it for you."

I blinked at Bear, surprise flaring in the numbness that he managed to beat Lion to the punch. I was grateful, though—I thought if it came from Lion it would just spin Fox on, but Bear didn't raise his voice very often. Fox looked just as surprised as the rest of us, but he just cursed under his breath and veered to the kitchen. I heard something bang and flinched.

"I'll get him," Wolf said with a sigh, rising towards the kitchen. "Bloody fool."

They disappeared into the kitchen. The only one left was Eagle, still gone to get some of K-Unit's things. I wondered how Evie would take this news—they had a wedding to plan. Perhaps he should stay back in Oxford.

I said as much to Snake, and he gave me a look. "I mentioned it too, but they've got loads of time. Besides, he cares about your safety just as much as the rest of us. He wants to be here to help."

Everything they said just made me feel worse.

I knew. I knew I was throwing kindness back in their faces, throwing their safety and olive branches and gifts and home back from where it came, but…what other choice did I have?

I blinked and smiled wryly into the steam gently warming my face from the soup.

I didn't have a choice, now.

Staying would make them targets for MI6. Leaving would make them targets for SCORPIA.

No matter what decision I made, I was condemning someone, and the thought was so staggering I almost started laughing.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it was the weight of the world, but it was heavy, nonetheless.

…

Sergeant Callaway didn't know where his men got off sounding so grim as they relayed Jaguar's identity as Cub, and as Alex Rider, teenage spy extraordinaire. Callaway had known it was Cub the minute he'd seen his selection photo. Besides, if he'd had any suspicions, they were erased when Cub pulled the same stunt he had the last time, escaping (or trying to escape) RTI.

Continute up the road for 54 miles, his GPS intoned, and he stepped on the gas, frankly sick of traffic laws.

The thing was, Sergeant Callaway was not only experienced—he was connected. He'd heard the rumors surrounding the schoolboy dropped into the laps for eleven days. He hadn't been told anything specific, of course—they never were—but he knew that it wasn't just some elaborate babysitting scheme or protection bullshit. He wasn't born yesterday.

Still, he didn't think MI6 would go so far as to use a child. He'd never been told Alex's exact age, but he'd seemed mature enough and capable enough that Callaway would've placed him at 16 or 17. Still far too young.

So he'd done his best to help the kid through training without making it obvious, and sent him on his way. He heard things through the grapevine—some kid with excellent tactical abilities, sharp as a whip and an agent to boot, toppling masterminds and terrorist organizations left and right. Callaway was impressed, sure—thankful, naturally—but also worried. Not that he could do anything.

Then, this legend disappeared, and honestly Callaway figured he'd finally been KIA, until he showed up under a different name with darker hair and haunted eyes.

Callaway knew then that something far worse had happened, and if he was hiding in the SAS…well, as long as Cub-now-Jaguar did his damn job, Callaway was fine looking the other way.

Now, he was being told that the inevitable toll was not only coming, but here in the form of two damn sneaky organizations dead set on terrorizing a teenager.

Callaway couldn't say it was anything he'd dealt with before, but he'd always been adaptable. Once he got there, he could assess the situation and react accordingly, after getting Cub's side of the story.

Continue up the road for 48 miles.

If he ever fucking got there.

Callaway cursed fucking cars. He hated driving.

The marshy Wales countryside flew by much too fast and much too slow, and Callaway couldn't help but wonder what exactly waited for him in Cookham. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.

He'd also be lying if he said he wasn't pissed.

Whatever Cub had done in the past, Jaguar was his man, and Callaway went to bat for his soldiers. Double-teaming it with an assortment of dumbarse twenty-somethings and a mentally unstable teenager wouldn't change a damn thing.

A/N: Hehehehehehehehhehehehehehehhehehehe

It gets worse before it gets better, my loves. For EVERYONE. But I promise it'll get better in the end!

You guys are AMAZING, especially all of you who joined my Discord! I've loved getting to know all of you a little better and talk / hear about your favorite parts and advice and stuff. It's been so so so amazing and I'm honored to have such an incredible, supportive community of writers and readers at my back! GO JOIN IF YOU HAVEN'T IT'S A FUN TIME Link in the last chapter!

Thanks especially to my amazing reviewers: KMER79, SupernaturalCanary19, OnlyABookworm, MillieM04, Finnix, Lira, PuffAndProud, , otterpineapple06, Fox, scarlettmeadows, Wraith and Demjin, marthecaterpillar, Cakemania225, Asilrettor, Em0Wolf, jhalverson2027, Clover226, Guest, Finnix, Guest, Guest, Guest please, and storyspinner16! You're all wonderful!

Lira: I'M SORRY but I'm glad you liked it! Thank you so so so much!

Finnix: Lol same XD Omg Finnix stop I'm gonna cry tysm that's literally so kind T.T Hahahaha I'm very glad you kept coming back, I'll call you probably both if that's ok! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE REVEAL I was nervous people would want me to write everything out or skip everything entirely, so I tried to find some middle ground! Also, his internal monologue made me sad too, bestie. Don't worry, I'm simping for Lion 24/7 right there with you, lol. I adore him so much. He became a much more nuanced character than I planned for him to be, so we're all pleasantly surprised, I guess! Also, the Discord server was an EXCELLENT idea, tysm! I'm glad I get to talk to you more in there!

Fox: Hope this didn't disappoint!\

Guest (Love it): Thanks!

Finnix: YAY!

Guest (Absolutely loved this new…): Thanks so much! Hahaha ily!

Guest (oh my gosh): HAHAHA I'M SORRY I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE ANGSTY! Thank you so so much!

Guest please: Omg thanks so much! And no, he isn't; Fox has that effect on people lol XD Hehehehe funny you should mention that…Thanks so much for reviewing so kindly!

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Hopefully I'll see you all again soon!